M. Moravius Piscinus Pontifex Maximus Quiritibus, cultoribus Deorum et omnibus salutem plurimam dicit: Mercurius eloquentiam in nos communicet.
Hodie est die pristine Kalendas Octobras; haec dies comitialis est:
MERCURIUS
"May You, Mercurius, make plump the richness of my house and all else within, save my natural talents, and as usual, may You remain the primary guardian over me." ~ Q. Horatius Flaccus, Satires 2.6.14-15
"There are four Mercuries. First is the son of Caelus and Dies; second of Jupiter and Cronia or Proserpina; third is the Son of Kronos and Maia, who invented the lyre; and fourth is the son of Cyllenius who they say invented the Egyptian hieroglyphs and numbers." ~ Lucius Ampelius, Quot fuere Ioves vel alii in loco dii deaeque 9.5
TALASSIO
"Why is the far-famed 'Talassio' sung at the marriage ceremony? Is it derived from talasia (spinning)? For they call the wool-basket (talaros) talasus. When they lead in the bride, they spread a fleece beneath her; she herself brings with her a distaff and her spindle, and wreaths her husband's door with wool. Or is the statement of the historians true? They relate that there was a certain young man, brilliant in military achievements and valuable in other ways, whose name was Talasius; and when the Romans were carrying off the daughters of the Sabines who had come to see the games, a maiden of particularly beautiful appearance was being carried off for him by some plebeian retainers of his. To protect their enterprise and to prevent anyone from approaching and trying to wrest the maiden from them, they shouted continually that she was being brought as a wife for Talasius (Talasio). Since, therefore, everyone honored Talasius, they followed along and provided escort, joining in the good wishes and acclamations. Wherefore since Talasius's marriage was happy, they became accustomed to invoke Talasius in other marriages also, even as the Greeks invoke Hymen." ~ Plutarch, Roman Questions 31
AUC 80 / 673 BCE: Fetiales, Horatii, and Curiatii
"[Fufetius says] 'Tullius, some God who keeps watch over both our cities would seem, just as upon many other occasions, so especially in what relates to this combat to have made his goodwill manifest. For that the champions who are to fight on behalf of all their people should be found inferior to none in birth, brave in arms, most comely in appearance, and that they should furthermore have been born of one father and mother, and, most wonderful of all, that they should have come into the world on the same day, the Horatii with you and the Curiatii with us, all this, I say, has every appearance of a remarkable instance of divine favor. Why, therefore, do we not accept this great providence of the God and each of us invite the triplets on his side to engage in the combat for the supremacy? For not only all the other advantages which we could desire in the best-qualified champions are to be found in these men, but, as they are brothers, they will be more unwilling than any others among either the Romans or the Albans to forsake their companions when in distress; and furthermore, the emulation of the other youths, which cannot easily be appeased in any other way, will be promptly settled. For I surmise that among you also, as well as among the Albans, there is a kind of strife among many of those who lay claim to bravery; but if we inform them that some providential fortune has anticipated all human efforts and has itself furnished us with champions qualified to engage upon equal terms in the cause of the cities, we shall easily persuade them to desist. For they will then look upon themselves as inferior to the triplets, not in point of bravery, but only in respect of a special boon of Nature and of the favor of a Chance that is equally inclined toward both sides.'" - Dionysius of Halicarnassus 3.14
"There happened to be in each of the armies a triplet of brothers, fairly matched in years and strength. It is generally agreed that they were called Horatii and Curiatii. Few incidents in antiquity have been more widely celebrated, yet in spite of its celebrity there is a discrepancy in the accounts as to which nation each belonged. There are authorities on both sides, but I find that the majority give the name of Horatii to the Romans, and my sympathies lead me to follow them. The kings suggested to them that they should each fight on behalf of their country, and where victory rested, there should be the sovereignty. They raised no objection; so the time and place were fixed. But before they engaged a treaty was concluded between the Romans and the Albans, providing that the nation whose representatives proved victorious should receive the peaceable submission of the other. This is the earliest treaty recorded, and as all treaties, however different the conditions they contain, are concluded with the same forms, I will describe the forms with which this one was concluded as handed down by tradition. The Fetial put the formal question to Tullus: "Do you, King, order me to make a treaty with the Pater Patratus of the Alban nation?" On the king replying in the affirmative, the Fetial said: 'I demand of thee, King, some tufts of grass.' The king replied: 'Take those that are pure.' The Fetial brought pure grass from the Citadel. Then he asked the king: 'Do you constitute me the plenipotentiary of the People of Rome, the Quirites, sanctioning also my vessels and comrades?' To which the king replied: 'So far as may be without hurt to myself and the People of Rome, the Quirites, I do.' The Fetial was M. Valerius. He made Spurius Furius the Pater Patratus by touching his head and hair with the grass. Then the Pater Patratus, who is constituted for the purpose of giving the treaty the religious sanction of an oath, did so by a long formula in verse, which it is not worth while to quote. After reciting the conditions he said: 'Hear, O Jupiter, hear! thou Pater Patratus of the people of Alba! Hear ye, too, people of Alba! As these conditions have been publicly rehearsed from first to last, from these tablets, in perfect good faith, and inasmuch as they have here and now been most clearly understood, so these conditions the People of Rome will not be the first to go back from. If they shall, in their national council, with false and malicious intent be the first to go back, then do thou, Jupiter, on that day, so smite the People of Rome, even as I here and now shall smite this swine, and smite them so much the more heavily, as thou art greater in power and might.' With these words he struck the swine with a flint. In similar wise the Albans recited their oath and formularies through their own dictator and their priests.
"On the conclusion of the treaty the six combatants armed themselves. They were greeted with shouts of encouragement from their comrades, who reminded them that their fathers' Gods, their Fatherland, their fathers, every fellow-citizen, every fellow-soldier, were now watching their weapons and the hands that wielded them. Eager for the contest and inspired by the voices round them, they advanced into the open space between the opposing lines. The two armies were sitting in front of their respective camps, relieved from personal danger but not from anxiety, since upon the fortunes and courage of this little group hung the issue of dominion. Watchful and nervous, they gaze with feverish intensity on a spectacle by no means entertaining. The signal was given, and with uplifted swords the six youths charged like a battle-line with the courage of a mighty host. Not one of them thought of his own danger; their sole thought was for their country, whether it would be supreme or subject, their one anxiety that they were deciding its future fortunes. When, at the first encounter, the flashing swords rang on their opponents' shields, a deep shudder ran through the spectators; then a breathless silence followed, as neither side seemed to be gaining any advantage. Soon, however, they saw something more than the swift movements of limbs and the rapid play of sword and shield: blood became visible flowing from open wounds. Two of the Romans fell one on the other, breathing out their life, whilst all the three Albans were wounded. The fall of the Romans was welcomed with a burst of exultation from the Alban army; whilst the Roman legions, who had lost all hope, but not all anxiety, trembled for their solitary champion surrounded by the three Curiatii. It chanced that he was untouched, and though not a match for the three together, he was confident of victory against each separately. So, that he might encounter each singly, he took to flight, assuming that they would follow as well as their wounds would allow. He had run some distance from the spot where the combat began, when, on looking back, he saw them following at long intervals from each other, the foremost not far from him. He turned and made a desperate attack upon him, and whilst the Alban army were shouting to the other Curiatii to come to their brother's assistance, Horatius had already slain his foe and, flushed with victory, was awaiting the second encounter. Then the Romans cheered their champion with a shout such as men raise when hope succeeds to despair, and he hastened to bring the fight to a close. Before the third, who was not far away, could come up, he dispatched the second Curiatius. The survivors were now equal in point of numbers, but far from equal in either confidence or strength. The one, unscathed after his double victory, was eager for the third contest; the other, dragging himself wearily along, exhausted by his wounds and by his running, vanquished already by the previous slaughter of his brothers, was an easy conquest to his victorious foe. There was, in fact, no fighting. The Roman cried exultingly: "Two have I sacrificed to appease my brothers' shades; the third I will offer for the issue of this fight, that the Roman may rule the Alban." He thrust his sword downward into the neck of his opponent, who could no longer lift his shield, and then despoiled him as he lay. Horatius was welcomed by the Romans with shouts of triumph, all the more joyous for the fears they had felt. Both sides turned their attention to burying their dead champions, but with very different feelings, the one rejoicing in wider dominion, the other deprived of their liberty and under alien rule. The tombs stand on the spots where each fell; those of the Romans close together, in the direction of Alba; the three Alban tombs, at intervals, in the direction of Rome." ~ Titus Livius 1.24-25
Our thought for today comes from Epicurus, Philosophical Discourses 29:
"Of our desires some are natural and necessary, others are natural but not necessary; and others are neither natural nor necessary, but are due to groundless opinion."
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